TEOTWAWKI: Beacon's Story (3 page)

Beacon grabbed a can of pears for breakfast and headed back up to the shelf. He ate it sitting on his primary BOB while scanning the hillsides then went back down and began applying a camo pattern to his truck.

Irregularly shaped blobs of black and brown were applied to each corner of the tan camper shell as well as the top leading edge of the windshield. The corners of the front of the engine compartment over the headlights got the same treatment. Then he painted very lightly over the headlights but carefully avoiding the parking lights.

When looking for signs of humans people tended to look for straight lines, circles, rectangles and squares. By putting blobs on the corners and straight lines of his truck Beacon removed a key recognition parameter from the puzzle.

When he was through a few twisted dark brown painted on branches adorned the sides, front and back of the vehicle at random angles bending around corners and paying no attention to the stylish structural lines so carefully designed into the truck and camper shell. The results were not nearly as neat as the camo on the trucks he'd just passed, but the larger blotches and fading edges of his patterns helped his truck blend in at distances just like their professionally painted vehicles.

Camouflage, he reflected, is the art of blending into the background; not being cool. He put stripes and blobs of gray and tan across his tires and hubs to erase the black doughnut shape people subconsciously looked for when looking for vehicles.

Beacon locked the BOB in the cab before walking back up to the lookout point to visually recon the dirt road he was about to travel on the next leg of his journey.

Something was stirring. Pulling the binoculars from the pocket of his tactical vest he counted 20 outlaw bikers coming down from the north. With the binoculars he could see all had gas cans of one size or another strapped onto their hogs. They were wearing their colors and weren't bothering to conceal their guns.

Beacon turned and gave three coyote howls down the road in the direction of the Rich Guys Survival Club then repeated the performance twice more before he heard an answering howl from down the road.

Beacon knew the secret of survival was not winning fights, but avoiding them. If the outlaw bikers wanted peaceful passage he was sure the Doctors, Dentists, Lawyers and Bankers Survival Group would want to avoid a confrontation and, as a practical matter, the ragtag ruffians probably had nothing the well prepared Doctors, Dentists, Lawyers and Bankers Survival Group would want.

Moving slowly Beacon inched all the way behind the bush. He was about a third of the way down the slope so there was no danger of anyone spotting his silhouette against the skyline, but he wasn't taking any chances. The bush broke up his outline and his long-sleeved brown shirt, tan tactical vest, dark tan pants and MultiCam camo boonie hat blended in with his surroundings.

The bikers were moving slowly raising very little dust, but they couldn't hide the roar of their hogs as they rounded the bend in front of him. Keeping his head down so the brim of his boonie shadowed his face Beacon watched them through the bush as they rumbled past.

The danger was almost over when three stragglers hove into view. As they passed the turnoff one noticed Bacon's tire tracks. They pulled out weapons and roared up the hill toward Beacon's camp.

Traveling in an almost straight line Beacon had the advantage racing 20 yards back down the hill while the motorcycles had to follow the winding trail up to his camp. The race ended in a tie.

Seeing Beacon's truck the bikers let out a yell and accelerated planning to use the element of surprise to their advantage. Beacon decided to employ the Sergeant York strategy.

Taking a deep breath he aimed at the chest of the last motorcyclist on the trail and squeezed off a shot from his M1A rifle. The .308 caliber bullet knocked the man and his weapon over backwards off the hog.

Without waiting to see what happened to his target he set his sights on the middle biker in line firing off a quick shot as the man raised a sawed off double barreled shotgun. The motorcyclist went one way the motorcycle another.

The leader of the pack, armed with a MAC-10 and seemed to have forgotten to cock the weapon before beginning his charge. Unaware that he'd lost his following he seemed intent on running Beacon down. Beacon blew his head off and jumped to the side as the headless biker roared by.

Hoping the roar of the outlaw bikes had covered the sound of his shots, Beacon ran back up to his lookout spot. The rest of the gang was at the base of the next hill charging into what they obviously thought would be an easy victory over the two off road vehicles at the head of the side trail.

If they'd done a proper reconnaissance they'd have realized there were more vehicles filled with well armed enthusiasts spoiling for a fight behind the two vehicles they could see. But like the three bikers Beacon had just killed they mistook the element of surprise for a plan.

But six of the rearmost bikers had heard Beacon's shots and were turning their hogs around on the dirt road. The range was about 400 yards and closing. Beacon went prone on the edge of the lookout shelf and set his sights.

He didn't use the Sergeant York strategy this time as his objective was not to eliminate all attackers but to discourage them from attacking. Like the battle he'd just fought, he had to win this fight to survive and he knew he couldn't expect to come out of every battle unscathed. Any victory won without endangering himself increased his chances of long term survival. Beacon aimed to take out as many of his attackers as possible before they reached the turnoff to his camp. If he couldn't drive them off he'd kill them off.

Taking careful aim and leading his target Beacon took out the group's leader as he raced up the road. After the two others behind him had fallen the remaining three turned tail and raced back down the trail. They drove into the firestorm that was THE Rich Guys Survival Club.

The sound of gunfire from the direction of the off-roader's camp told him that battle wasn't over yet. Beacon held his post and waited. A few minutes later as the sound of shots fizzled out a lone biker came around the bend going hell bent for leather. Beacon dropped him at a hundred yards.

When he was sure no more were coming back Beacon policed up a .30 caliber M-2 Carbine with six thirty round magazines, the sawed off 12 gauge double barreled shotgun with a box of shells plus the .45 caliber MAC-10 and five fully loaded magazines from the three marauders that had tried to invade his camp. The bodies also yielded two switchblades, a cheap Bowie knife, two .357 magnum revolvers and a 40mm Glock semi-auto pistol.

After one last survey of the dirt road from his lookout point Beacon left the weapons of the other outlaw bikers he'd killed down on the road for the Rich Guys Survival Club to police up. No doubt they'd use them or trade'em just as he planned to do with the weapons from the headless biker and his companions.

Hurrying, Beacon resumed his journey. He had nothing against the rich guys, but didn't want to be part of their group which was what would happen if he traveled any great distance with them.

An hour later he topped a rise on a curve and was confronted by a convoy of three vehicles coming up the other side. They were as surprised as he was. Assessing the situation Beacon put his truck in reverse and backed up about 50 yards to a point where he could back off the road and turn around if need be.

No cars showed up at the top of the hill. They'd stopped, turned around or deployed skirmishers. Beacon didn't want to be in the truck if the latter was the case. He got out and went up the hill a little ways hoping to observe the group.

Someone from the convoy with a long gun held at port arms was walking up to the crest of the hill to see where he'd gone. A middle aged woman hurried up scolding him saying "Rick put down that gun."

He put the gun under his arm as she began calling out to Beacon. After scanning the hillside for flankers Beacon moved up within talking distance and stepped from behind a big bush, but stayed off the road.

"Sir, I'm Trudy Peace and this is my son Rick, can you please tell us what it's like up ahead?"

"There was a biker gang few miles ahead of you headed the same way you are but they tangled with a group of off-roaders so they probably aren't much of a threat now.

As the rest of the clan walked up to stand behind her as she said, "Oh dear, maybe we ought to go back we've only got one gun."

"But there's nothing back there but looters," said a younger woman in a low cut bright yellow dress who'd come to stand beside the young man with the gun that Beacon now recognized as an expensive 20 gauge over and under sporting clays shotgun. Under powered and slow to reload it wasn't much protection under the circumstances.

Beacon asked detailed questions about what the group had seen and got detailed answers along with some sketchy ideas about the family. The oldest woman was the matriarch; the three young men were her sons. The two oldest sons had their wives with them. The youngest son and his girlfriend were traveling in the first car with the mother who offered Beacon lunch.

Beacon didn't want to make any alliances and he didn't want anyone to know what was in the truck, but the woman's offer to share what little food they had touched him so while declining their offer he offered them resources.

"I can't stop for lunch however I'll give you the best advice I have to give." Beacon took a deep breath and began.

"About five miles ahead there'll be a trail by a big rock beside a dead tree on the left. About 50 yards up the trail you'll find three dead bikers and their motorcycles. You should be able to drain a few gallons of gas out the gas tanks."

Then remembering what he'd seen at the top of the hill he added, "You'd be wise to take all the clothes and crap out of two of your cars and leave them and that gas guzzling GTO there. Traveling in two cars won't be as comfortable, but you'll get further on the gas you've got."

The youngest man and both brides started to protest so he added quickly, "Our infrastructure is down. The gas in your tanks right now is the last you're going to see for decades and it'll only be good for about a year. Without gas the best use for automobiles will be living quarters."

"Lock the clothes and crap in the GTO and siphon the gas out of it. That'll help your remaining vehicles go further and keep anyone from stealing it. You can pretend you'll come back for it all when things get back to normal if it'll make you feel any better."

"Leave your beautiful bright clothes behind," he said nodding to the girl in the bright yellow dress, "they make good targets, but keep the blacks, browns, greens, grays and tans. Work clothes; jeans, long sleeved shirts, coats, jackets and thick pants will be what you'll need when winter comes."

"There's a large group of well prepared off-roaders up ahead of you. You'd do well to team up with them if they'll let you."

Then nodding to the kid with the shotgun, who seemed to know how to handle guns, and the matriarch he added, "If you two will stop in front of my truck I've got a few extra guns I'll loan you." He watched the clan walk back to their cars then hurried back to his truck.

Beacon placed the gas cans and one of the siphon hoses he'd untied from the three biker's motorcycles, the cheap Bowie knife and all three pistols with their ammunition on a piece of cloth in the middle of the road while the others were driving up.

After the others had passed by the older woman and her son stopped he handed the M-2 carbine and a pillowcase full of its magazines to the kid, who introduced himself as Rick and confirmed Beacon's suspicion that he'd been in the military by saying he'd been a driver/mechanic in the Army. Beacon advised him the M-2 was full auto but it would be best to shoot semi-auto to save ammo. "They ain't makin' it any more." He smiled.

Then he gave the sawed off double barreled shotgun to the woman along with a bag of shells telling her, "As the leader your job is directing your troops. Besides I doubt you'd be able to bring yourself to shoot anyone except as a last resort when they closed in on you. This'll stop'em when they get too close, but don't wait too long to shoot."

Then he showed her how to set the external hammers at half cock and admonished both of them to remember the first two rules of firearms safety.

"Never point the muzzle at anyone you do not intend to kill and keep your finger out of the trigger guard until you're ready to shoot," then looking Mrs. Peace in the eye he added, "These guns will be around you a lot more than they'll be near any outlaws you encounter. Make sure no member of your family ever lets a gun point at family."

As they got back in their car the kid asked, "How did you know we wouldn't shoot you with the guns you just gave us?"

Beacon smiled, "They're unloaded."